When a mass of arctic air falling down onto Utah made it plain that the plans we made in the heat of the summer for a last camp by a scenic mountain lake would not be a good idea, we (my son Andy and I) decided instead on a quiet afternoon on Utah Lake.

There has been a drought in Utah for the last four years. Reservoir levels are low, and many of the smaller ones are empty. We had planned to go to a quiet little 80 acre no-motorized-craft reservoir, but found that all of the reservoirs in the Sevier (pronounced severe ) river drainage were empty.

Aflac

Utah Lake is about 30 miles long and 10 miles across, so we were confident that it still had some water in it. We were surprised to find that its level had dropped to the point that it was difficult to impossible to launch a power boat from the existing ramps. In fact, once we got our boats into the water (hand carried my V12, and a variation of Herb McLeods OSS that my son calls 'Aflac') we found that we struck bottom with our oars on almost every stroke while in the protected channel that leads to the lake. That isn't much draft.

We knew that lake was big, but we didn't really feel how big it was until we were out on it. We felt like dust specs and stayed near the shore at first, fishing at anchor for an hour or so. We ate lunch, and then a few breaths of breeze encouraged us to raise the sail and do a little exploring. The wind turned out to be pretty fickle, and it wasn't too long before we were doing a little exploration under oar power. We spotted a little island off on the horizon and thought that we might row out to it. It was probably about a half a mile a way.

The race was on

We rowed for quite some time and the island didn't seem to get much closer, but Lincoln Beach seemed to be about a half a mile a way.... hmmmm. We kept at it, racing a little from time to time for another twenty minutes or so. Again, Lincoln Beach seemed to be about a mile away now..... and the island still didn't seem much closer. Maybe a little, but not a lot. We weren't sure just what to do now. We were tiny specks in some big water, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky, or enough wind to ripple the water. So we pressed on.

After another twenty minutes or so we couldn't see the big pile of rocks (about 20 feet tall) that marked the channel to the boat ramps at Lincoln Beach, but finally the island was getting bigger and more impressive. The lake had dropped so far that the island wasn't really an island anymore, but was connected by a muddy land bridge. Bird Island lived up to it's name with a variety of gulls, cranes, and avocets watching us with suspicion and declining to stay and visit. Andy and Aflac continued on to land on shore and claim the great victory. I still had the centerboard down and the rudder on, and declined to share in the glory.

Landing on Bird Island

About the time that Andy landed on the island, I felt a distinct change in the wind. It had been fickle and fitful all afternoon, but now a fresh breath came from the north told us both that it was time to go. I have a few memories of being on the wrong end of a long lake when the wind was blowing from my first sail on Lake Powell. I had watched the weather reports and was pretty sure that there were not any big storms brewing, but winds up to 10 mph were predicted and that was enough for us.

Heading home

As soon as Andy got his lure freed from the lake bottom, he rowed over and we attached a line, raised the sail and headed home. It was great sailing, with a fresh breeze and long down wind tacks. About thirty minutes after we started, I noticed that the little two inch waves were starting to ride piggy back on some swells that were probably about twelve inches tall. But we continued on without trouble. The wind picked up a little and the tow rope between the two boats was mostly out of the water now. I wish that I would have had a little more courage and taken a few pictures here, because it was really pretty cool. Coward that I am, I just couldn't tie off or drop the lines and tiller and find the camera. The waves continued to grow until they were about 18 inches or so with an occasional bigger one.

We were glad that we were not having any real trouble when Andy (the lookout - I was kind of busy) reported that a little sailboat that we had been watching earlier had biffed it and was down for the count. I don't know the brand or make, but it was one of those little guys that have two big foam cushions running up and down the sides....basically made to go fast and get you wet one way or another. They were near to the shore and we were still at least a mile away, so we couldn't do much about it.

Getting into shallow water

We fell to discussing the wisdom of sharing the details of our little adventure with our spouses and had about decided that it would be best not to worry them when Andy (again the lookout) announced that we were busted. My wife had come to pick us up, and the truck was on a little ridge overlooking the lake. The waves continued to grow as we got into shallow water, so untying the two boats, brailing the sail, raising the centerboard, etc. was pretty exciting and a little out of control.

But all is well that ends well and now you all know the sordid details of the Bird Island Escapade. A pretty small adventure really, but a great day on the water, a great day with my son, a great day to remember when I am at work in my beige cubicle.